A Deadly Row

by Casey Mayes

  I parked on the other side of the street and tried to take it all in. It was the first time I’d been back since we’d sold it, and while I wasn’t ordinarily all that sentimental, I was surprised to realize that I was crying softly as I looked at it.

  My reverie and introspection were broken when there was a sudden tapping on the passenger window of my car.

  I looked up to see the smiling face of Sherry Watts, my longtime neighbor and best friend in Charlotte. Her smile vanished as she saw my tears.

  “Savannah, are you all right?”

  I wiped the tears from my face, feeling foolish the entire time I was doing it. “Sorry, I just got caught up in it all.”

  “Well, come out here and give me a hug.”

  I did as she commanded, and soon found myself wrapped in her embrace. Sherry was what some would call pleasingly plump, with just enough softness around the edges to make her look like someone’s mom, which she was, three times over. She had bright red hair, a complexion like milk, and a sharp wit that I’d cherished over the years of our friendship.

  “You’ve lost weight,” she said after she pulled away and studied me.

  “Trust me, you’re wrong.”

  She shook her head slightly. “Savannah, I know what I’m talking about. The country air must be good for you. How’s life treating you?”

  “We love it,” I said.

  Sherry frowned for a moment. “Why didn’t you call me? I had no idea you were coming back to the city.”

  “It just came up,” I said. “Zach got a call from the new police chief.”

  She nodded. “It’s been all over the Observer. Can you imagine, Charlotte having our very own killer on the loose.”

  “You don’t seem all that worried about it,” I said.

  She smiled brightly. “Are you kidding? Who’d want to get rid of me? I’m absolutely delightful.”

  We both laughed at her expression of wonder, and it felt good being in her presence again. I didn’t miss much about our move, but losing my friends had to be high on the list of regrets about leaving Charlotte.

  She glanced over at my old house. “I just love what they’ve done with the bushes, don’t you?”

  “They got kind of aggressive, don’t you think?”

  Sherry laughed. “Jack hired his seventeen-year-old son to trim them—even though Betsy warned him not to—and knowing Jack, he gave pretty precise instructions. But Justin has a mind of his own, so he ignored them. He’s a good kid, but I’m glad I’ve got girls. Boys seem to have too many hormones.”

  I frowned for a second before I buried it. I didn’t think Sherry saw it, but I was surprised to find that I was jealous that she’d bonded so quickly with my replacements. Life moved on for me. Why shouldn’t it for my best friend?

  She took my hand and said, “Come on into the kitchen. I’ve got a pan of sweet rolls that came out two minutes ago, and there’s fresh coffee, too.”

  Sherry was famous for her sourdough bread and rolls, and I knew Zach would be envious when he found out I’d sampled some. I glanced at my watch. “What about the girls? Don’t you have to pick them up at school?”

  She laughed. “That’s right, you don’t know. Lindsay got her license, and she persuaded her dad to buy her a car.”

  “And Bill actually did?” Her husband was notoriously tight with money, and they had a hefty savings account to prove it.

  “Come on, you know he’s always had a tough time saying no to her. The beauty of it is, she’s happy to drive to school, even if it means she has to pick Haley and Jessie up on her way home. I can’t tell you how freeing it’s been. Now come on, let’s get those sweet rolls before the girls get home and demolish the pan.”

  I followed her inside, forgetting my momentary lapse and trying to enjoy being with my friend again. We’d email and talk on the telephone from time to time, but there was no substitute for personal contact. Though I’d made a few new friends in Parson’s Valley, none of the relationships had had the chance to blossom yet. It was true what they said; there were no friendships like old ones.

  The three girls came in just as we finished a sweet roll apiece, laughing about something. After hugging each of them and marveling at how much they’d grown, I excused myself.

  “Let me walk you out,” Sherry said, and turning to her daughters, she added, “Save one for your father.”

  “Do we have to?” Jessie asked.

  “Fine, go ahead and eat his. It’s on your head, though, not mine.”

  Jessie pulled her hand away. “It’s not worth it.”

  “You got that right,” Sherry said. “I’ll be back in a second.”

  Back at my car, Sherry hugged me again. As she did, I felt like I was truly home again. “How long are you going to be in town?”

  “I’m not really sure,” I admitted.

  “You could always stay with us, but it might be a little tight,” she offered.

  “Thanks, but we’re staying at the Belmont.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “My, my, my. We’re coming up in the world, aren’t we? And don’t try to tell me you’re paying for it with your puzzle money. I know better.”

  “If you can believe it, we’re guests of the hotel’s owner.”

  “Savannah, you are running in some rarified circles these days.” She paused after she said it, looked past me, and then waved her hand in the air. “Betsy, come on over. There’s someone you’ve got to meet.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was see my replacement, but I turned to see a tall, thin woman with wiry blonde hair coming toward us.

  As she neared, Sherry said, “This is Savannah Stone.”

  “I love your puzzles,” she said, absolutely gushing. “I don’t know how you do it. They’re wonderful.”

  Sherry grinned. “When I told her whose house she bought, she was thrilled. You’ve been wondering who your biggest fan was. Well, say hello to her.”

  I offered her my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Stay right here. Don’t move,” Betsy said.

  “Where’s she going?” I asked Sherry as the woman hurried quickly back across the street.

  “I have no idea. She’s a hoot, isn’t she?”

  “She’s something, all right.”

  A minute later, Betsy came back waving a newspaper in her hand. “I got it. Would you mind signing this for me? It would be such an honor.”

  “Of course, I’d be delighted,” I said. I was rarely asked for an autograph outside of a puzzle convention. There I was treated like some kind of minor celebrity, but in everyday life, no one seemed to know—or care—who I was, or what I did for a living.

  After I signed the puzzle, she took it back and stared at my autograph for a few seconds. “You just made my day. Sorry, I’m usually not this ditsy, but I always get this way around famous people.”

  Sherry and I both laughed, and to Betsy’s credit, she smiled back.

  I explained, “I’m really not all that much of anything important.”

  “Trust her, she’s telling the truth,” Sherry said.

  “Well, you are to me.”

  That got us laughing again.

  “Sorry. Old friends, inside jokes,” I said.

  “Are you kidding? I’m thrilled. You’re even nicer than Sherry said you were.”

  I looked at my old friend. “You’ve been talking about me?”

  “How many neighborhood stories can I tell that you or your husband aren’t in? Bring him by, too, okay?”

  “No promises. You know how he gets when he’s on a case.”

  “I thought he was retired,” Betsy said.

  “He’s consulting with the Charlotte police,” I said.

  “Wow, you two must lead pretty exciting lives.”

  “It’s not that different from everyone else,” I said.

  There was a car honking behind us, and I saw a lanky young man who had to be Justin. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

  “Is it time for an
other test?” Sherry asked.

  “You know it.”

  “Tell him I said good luck.”

  “Will do. It’s such a pleasure meeting you,” Betsy said as she shook my hand again.

  After she was gone, Sherry explained, “Her husband wouldn’t let Justin take his driving test until he got a B average in school.You’ve never seen a boy study so hard. The bad thing is, he was so nervous when he finally did take it, he flunked his first test. It’s driving Betsy as crazy as it is him.”

  “She seems nice.”

  “She is, but she’s not you. I miss you, Savannah.”

  “I miss you, too,” I said. “I’ll give you a call later when things settle down a little.”

  “I won’t hold my breath,” she said with a grin. “Things never seem to calm down when you’re around.”

  “Is that a crack at me, young lady?”

  “Are you kidding? I miss the excitement. Call me.”

  “I will,” I said.

  After I got in my car, I drove off quickly, not wanting to linger a moment longer. My life had changed, but there was a part of me that would always be there on that street. It made me a little sad to leave it again, but that was far outweighed by the sense of warmth I’d felt, wrapped up again in my best friend’s love. Sherry was one of those friends that life gave us sometimes, but only if we were very, very lucky. It had been as if we hadn’t missed a day since the last time we’d seen each other, picking up exactly where we’d left it. I cherished her friendship, and all that she meant to me. I was glad she’d found someone in my old house to be friends with, but even more, that there was still such a big place in her heart for me.

  I might not have a lot of money, or ever be famous, but in terms of my friendships and the love my husband and I shared, I was the richest woman in the world.

  Chapter 6

  “WOW, YOU’RE EARLY,” I SAID AS MY HUSBAND WALKED into our hotel suite later that evening.

  “It’s nearly seven,” he said as he looked around and whistled. “Man, this place is something else, isn’t it?”

  “Just wait. Let me give you the grand tour.”

  “Forget that. Look at that skyline. I can’t wait until it gets dark.”

  “While you’re admiring the view, let me order something from room service.”

  “I thought you wanted to go out,” he said, stifling a yawn.

  “I’ve got a feeling you wouldn’t be very good company,” I said. “We’ll eat in tonight, and you can take me somewhere special another night. Did you make any progress since I saw you?”

  “You know how it goes. I’m still trying to wrap my head around things now. It will take some time to digest it all.”

  “Don’t push yourself too hard,” I said.

  He rubbed his eyes. “I would have stayed later tonight, but I kept falling asleep reading the police reports. Order me a steak, would you? I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  I doubted he’d be able to make it quick. I’d already taken one myself. The shower was like everything else in the hotel, first class all the way. I’d never had a shower with water jetting out from three sides and above, and I doubted that I’d ever be content with a plain overhead nozzle again.

  Night was creeping in as I placed our dinner order and settled in on one of the couches facing the bank of windows. I hadn’t had a lot of luck with room service in the past, but I had the feeling that the Belmont would be different.

  I lost track of time staring out the window at the lights of Charlotte, and I was surprised when Zach came out dressed in one of the hotel’s luxurious bathrobes. He wasn’t the type of guy to wear robes as a general rule, and after a few failed attempts at giving them at Christmas and one birthday, I gave up trying.

  “I didn’t think you liked robes,” I said.

  “Normally I don’t, but I could get used to this.”

  There was a knock at the door, and as I started to answer it, my husband shook his head. “I’ll do it.”

  He pulled his gun out from his bathrobe pocket and moved to the door. I hadn’t even known he’d fetched it, but he must have had it in the bathroom with him. This case clearly had him more spooked than I’d realized.

  “Who is it?” he called out.

  “Room service,” I heard the muffled reply.

  “What’s the order?”

  “Two New York Strips, both medium, garlic mashed potatoes, cream spinach, and chocolate mousse for dessert.”

  He looked at me, and I nodded.

  When Zach opened the door, I could see that his gun hand was now in his robe, no doubt holding it on the unsuspecting waiter.

  “Would you like me to set it up for you?” the man asked as he pushed the cart into the room.

  “We’ll take care of it,” Zach said. “Hang on, let me get my wallet.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” the waiter said. “Everything, including tips for service you receive, has been taken care of.”

  “Then give the owner our thanks.”

  The man looked at Zach as if he’d lost his mind, and I understood why. If the manager of the place had only spoken with Barton Lane a handful of times over the years, there wasn’t much chance a waiter would be able to talk to him.

  He didn’t reply, but I could swear he bowed a little as he left the room.

  “That smells great,” Zach said as he started lifting off lids.

  “Did you really think that he might be a bad guy?” I asked.

  “Are we talking about the gun? No, I realized he was probably exactly who he said he was, but why take a chance if I don’t have to?”

  We decided to eat in front of the window, and the food was just as marvelous as I’d hoped it would be. The steak nearly came apart at the first touch of my fork, and as we ate, I knew exactly what I was going to order tomorrow. With delicious food like this available in our room, why go out and face the crowds?

  “Want your mousse?” Zach asked as he uncovered his.

  “I doubt I could enjoy it, I’m so full.”

  “Great. That means there’s more for me.”

  “Hey, hang on a second. I didn’t say you could have mine.”

  He dug into his, and after a quick bite, he said, “You wouldn’t like it. It’s too rich.”

  “Not that I don’t trust your opinion, but now I’m going to have to try it for myself.”

  He wasn’t eager to give it to me, though. “You’re full, remember?”

  “There’s always room for mousse,” I said.

  It was everything promised, rich and creamy, with waves of chocolate in every bite. When it was gone, I was surprised to realize that I still wanted more, though I knew I would never be able to eat another bite.

  I smiled with contentment. “I hope this place has a first-class spa and gym. If we keep eating like this, I’m going to have to start working out, or I’ll never fit into my clothes.”

  Zach just grinned as he leaned back in his chair. “I hate the reason we’re here, but I’ve got to say, I like the way your friend Barton Lane is treating us.”

  “He’s not my friend,” I said. “We’ve only spoken once.”

  “Evidently that’s more than most folks around here can say. You must have made some kind of impression on him.”

  “Don’t kid yourself. We’re getting all this so he can make your life easier and you can focus on who killed his assistant. The man sounded like he was still in shock over losing her when we talked.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Zach said.

  I could tell that my husband was distracted as he continued to stare out the window.

  “I’m thinking about redoing my hair.”

  “Good,” he said, and then I knew he wasn’t listening.

  “I’m going to start with a blue base, and then add red and green highlights. It should be nice, don’t you think?”

  “Nice,” he mumbled.

  “Zachary Harlan Stone,” I snapped.

  That got his attention. My
husband hated it when I used his full name.

  “What?” he asked, meeting my gaze.

  “If you want to go back to headquarters, I completely understand. I know how you get when you’re getting your teeth into a new case.”

  He looked tempted—I could see it in his eyes—but he just shook his head. “No, I need some time to digest the facts I’ve collected so far.”

  “Would it help to talk about it?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Wow, I can feel the love in the air.”

  “You know what I mean,” Zach said.

  “I know; I’m not trying to give you a hard time. Just say your thoughts out loud, and I’ll pretend to listen to you.”

  “Okay, here goes. What I know so far shouldn’t take long to tell. The crimes are related, that much is clear.”

  “From the letters the police got, right?”

  “That and the photos the killer sent. This wasn’t some casual killing spree. They were planned out pretty thoroughly, and the knife used on the victims was the same type, if not the exact same blade. Both murders occurred in the victims’ domiciles, and there were no signs of forced entry in either case.”

  “What exactly does that tell you?”

  “They let their killer in without a struggle.”

  “So it was someone they both knew,” I said. “That doesn’t look good for Grady, does it?”

  “Not really, but it’s not exactly proof we can use, either.” Zach tapped his chin, a sure sign he was deep in thought. “There are lots of other reasons Hank Tristan and Cindy Glass could have let someone into their places.”

  “I can’t imagine letting a stranger inside my house,” I said.

  “How about a delivery man with his hands full? Would you think twice about letting him in? Or a utility repair-man looking for a gas leak? If a police officer, or a fire-man, came to the door with a plausible story, would you think twice before you unlocked the door? The list goes on and on. You’d be amazed how easy it is to dupe people. I’ve seen it more than I could ever have imagined before I became a cop.”